


PDA

by murdergatsby



Series: Kinktober 2017 [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood and Injury, Bottom Hannibal, Dom/sub, Face-Fucking, M/M, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-09 05:52:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12270198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murdergatsby/pseuds/murdergatsby
Summary: All they had to do was look down.





	PDA

**Author's Note:**

> My 3rd entry for [Kinktober2017](https://kinktober2017.tumblr.com/post/163962052261/kinktober-2017)! The goal is, for everyday of October 2017, to post a small ficlet of either Hannigram or another Madancy (rare)pairing. I am aiming for them to be under 1k each but, who knows! Things happen.
> 
> This one in-particular is Hannigram, for the October 3rd prompt, "Public."
> 
> I hope you enjoy :)

They could see, if they wanted to. Briskly walking by on the street, one could only see the top of Will’s head but- if they _really_ wanted to- all they had to do was look down into the stairwell he had placed himself in. All they had to do was look down to see the stretch of flesh he was conquering.

Will had his fingertips pressed into Hannibal’s shoulder and tearing into the meat of his thigh, pulling him back and thrusting into him with whatever tempo he felt was necessary. Fast and hard, until he felt himself at risk of getting too loud. They both had their pants around their ankles, but Hannibal was the only one fully naked. His jacket, vest, shirt, and tie were on the damp and dirty ground. He was going to _hate_ that later, but having Will rip them from his body was a memory worth having.

Will had started with all his clothes secured. He fucked Hannibal through his zipper, over the waistband of his boxers, until gravity got involved. When his pants dropped, he cursed at them under his breath. His grip on Hannibal’s hips grew tighter with his frustration until he reached away to fiddle with the buttons on his shirt. Hannibal knew he’d bruise, but it wasn’t the first time.

Will continued to trust into him, sloppily and painfully without guide. He opened his shirt but didn’t pull it off. The open sides of his shirt dangled against the round of Hannibal’s ass, the plastic pearl buttons tapping against him.

Will had repositioned his hands to Hannibal’s waist, then shoulders, then throat. He slunk back into controlling where Hannibal moved- controlling how his spine bent, and how deep he took Will in. Eventually, his hands found more ease in gripping Hannibal by the shoulder and thigh. Hannibal wondered if Will missed the gentle sound of him choking as much as Hannibal missed the feel of it, but he didn’t move them back.

 _So selfish, so possessive_. Hannibal was just an object to be opened up and filled. Hannibal thought about this, how comfortable Will was with using him, as he beat himself off- one hand against the brick wall in front of him, and the other on his cock. Hannibal could feel himself shuttering closer to his climax. He was capable of silencing himself, keeping the sounds of his pleasure to self-directed gasps and sighs. However, that required the _want_ to.

Hannibal turned his face and groaned into the flesh of his arm. He let the volume of his voice climb until Will’s fist knotted in the hair on the back of his head.

“Shut up.” Will rasped, keeping his own voice low and darting his eyes to the street-line.

Hannibal pulled his head up, curving his neck back as Will demanded for it. He continued to vocalize, but allowed the sound to respond to each of Will’s sharp tugs at his hair- dimming with each yank.

It was a complicated balance, of not wanting to get caught and wanting everyone to see what Will was capable of.

 _And what a way to get caught_. Hannibal couldn’t help but fantasize. With Freddie Lounds still thirsty for their story's end, the _world_ would know how the once-great, arguably innocent, Will Graham was finally caught with his cock buried in the ass of the Cannibal Doctor- sloppy murder not being their end, but sloppy sex in a public stairwell.

Hannibal came with an open moan. He spilled on to the cement, and on to his clothes below him. The hand he had been using on himself found its way back to the brick, helping support him again.

Will released his head and let it drop between his shoulders, gasping.

“God, loud. That was so loud.” Will half seemed displeased, and half seemed overwhelmed by it.

Will pulled out and rolled the condom off him, discarding it to the empty dark of the stone. He turned Hannibal, shoved his back to the wall, and manipulated him to his knees. Hannibal, still riding the aftershock of his orgasm, didn’t fight it. He righted himself into a position he could maintain, and opened his mouth.

Through his lips, over the velvet of his tongue, and down his throat- Will guided his cock back into Hannibal. The only time Hannibal had to adjust was what Will used to brace against the new feeling his mouth had to offer. Will’s head fell forward as he pushed in deeper, placing his forearms against the wall and hiding his face in them. He could feel Hannibal’s head make contact with the brick, pressured against his groin, with the option to do nothing other than accept this.

Will started thrusting in to Hannibal’s mouth with the same intensity as before, because he knew Hannibal could take it. He moaned downward, trying to contain the sound with the boarders of his arms. Hannibal’s eyes were up- his gaze sharp as ever. He managed to keep his them focused on Will’s through each bounce his head took against the brick, no matter how aggressive Will moved into him. Hannibal could feel the hair on the back of his head growing damp, and Will would see the blood transferring to the wall.

_God._

Will moved his gaze away, raising it out to the sky. He closed his mouth on his fist and growled into it. He came down Hannibal’s throat without warning, pressing in on him as deeply as the wall would allow. _Hannibal probably can’t breathe._ He thought, but didn’t move. He stayed in Hannibal’s mouth until he was soft, and his own breath was caught.

Finally pulling away made him want to collapse. He wanted to curl up into the side of Hannibal’s body, and let himself fall asleep. They were far from the place to do that, so he shook the feeling off.

Gently, he tipped Hannibal’s head forward. His silver-blonde hair had grown a bright red, but the wound Will left on him only broke the skin. His _skull_ was okay, and that’s what Will was concerned about. He didn’t _think_ Hannibal would let him break his skull.

“Are you okay?” Will asked, regardless of his own certainty. His voice was softer than it was before- his entire essence was softer. He felt like a different person, and it made the hair on Hannibal’s neck and arms stand on end.

Hannibal’s chest rose and fell rapidly, casual breath still just out of his reach. He reached up for a hand, and Will gave it to him. His legs felt weak, even with Will’s assistance, and his knees were scuffed and bruising. His head hurt the worst, but he had bruises forming all over his body. The only clothing he had available were filthy- mud and come stained, blood likely to add to the mix as soon as he got them on.

He chuckled to himself and Will smiled at him.

“I’ve never been better, Will.”


End file.
